


Once Upon A Midnight Dreary....

by thewriterinside02



Category: The Raven - Edgar Allan Poe
Genre: Gen, Ghosts, Inspired by Edgar Allan Poe, Spirits, Substance Abuse, Supernatural Elements, The prompt was to write about a poet that we had read about., This can beconsidered a historical fiction, This was a creative writing assignment for my American Literature I course., tuberculosis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-20
Updated: 2020-11-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:00:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27646511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewriterinside02/pseuds/thewriterinside02
Summary: We are all cursed with the blessing of memory. Memories are something we treasure, yet it can bring us unbearable pain. How far would one go to avoid this pain... How far would we go to avoid the pain of remembering...





	Once Upon A Midnight Dreary....

I carelessly stared out the window in my study. The window was located behind the mahogany desk towards the back of the room. It was a beautiful window, as clear as the finest crystal wine glass. The border of the window was tinted with velvet blacks, crystal blues, and pastel greens, painting an image of a blue-eyed raven perched upon a single branch. The stained glass was a Christmas gift from my darling Virginia in the year 1841. Almost a year before we found that she was cursed with consumption.

The window was meant to be a reminder to always remember her and the times that we shared together. But as I gaze upon the well-intentioned image, vibrant colors now dulled in the dim candlelight and the stormy night sky, I could not help but feel the sharp bitterness of resentment towards the image, for it is now a reminder of death. I began to glare through the window as the lightning struck violently, the rain incessantly tapping, and the thunder making its mighty presence known.

The distant sound of deep, painful coughs echoed down the hall of my study. The sound pulled me out of the dark and pitiful recesses of my mind. Instead, my thoughts were redirected to Virginia, who was resting in her chambers. Virginia's bout of coughing this time around has lasted for two months. Three weeks longer than her last bout... Three weeks closer to death. I stood still and deathly silent as I listened to her misery. I waited for it to stop... one... two minutes. One minute too long. One minute closer to Death. She has steadily been getting weaker as months go by. Developing more bouts of coughing and more bouts of time completely devoid of energy. Looking frailer with each bout she develops.

I silently cursed God for bestowing this dreadful disease upon my sweet Virginia. I grunted angrily at the overwhelming and depressing thoughts that were trying to drown me. I briskly walk over to the crystal decanter of whisky (yet another gift given to me by Virginia) next to the rich red velvet sofa in the middle of the room. I aggressively pulled off the glass lid of the decanter with a loud pop, and then tossed it carelessly on the small dark table on which the decanter sat upon. I grabbed one of the four glasses on the table and poured an overly generous amount of the liquid amber into it, then swallowed the entire glass of burning nectar as if I have been without water for days. I poured myself another overly generous serving of whisky and idly strolled back over to the window, sipping slowly and hoping to savor it.

I came to a stop in front of the windowsill and my gaze slowly stopped at the looming image of the raven in the window just slightly above me.

"Memory," I sneered disdainfully, "what good is memory if it only brings you pain?"

I tossed the idea of savoring the whisky aside and swallowed it whole. I wanted to forget. I wanted to forget the misery of being helpless as I watched my wife suffer. I wanted to forget her pained coughs, her frail body, her bloody handkerchiefs. I wanted to forget how she used to be so vibrant and full of curiosity, now a mere shell of what she had been. I regretfully wanted to forget Her. To forget her name, her existence. To forget Virginia because the mere thought of her current state brings me pain in knowing that her time on earth is short. I wanted to forget everything as if I partook of the waters of the Lethe itself.

I suddenly heard the painful sounds of Virginia's coughs from down the hall yet again. I stilled. I waited... one... two... three minutes. I heard her moan in agony which then turned into a single loud cry. I cursed softly and sighed, looking down at my glass that is now empty. The misery and the helplessness returned and continued to drown me. I abandoned the glass on my desk; then I slowly, tiredly, walked towards the middle of the room and sat on the edge of the sofa closest to the door. I placed my right arm on the armrest then rested my head upon my right palm. I carelessly fixed my gaze upon the old, cherry grandfather clock that was nestled in between two mahogany bookcases. My face was void of all emotion as I sat and watched the pendulum sway... left... right... left... right...left... The gears turned and the clock hauntingly chimed one... two... three... four... five... six... seven... eight... nine... ten... eleven... midnight. After the twelfth chime, the rain began to tap more violently and the thundered rolled once more. I continued to watch the pendulum sway until I could keep my eyes open no more.

. . .

I awoke with a startled gasp when I heard a rapping at the door in front of my study. The sound resonated throughout the room. I dismissed the sound and leaned forward, then rubbed my face with my hands and exhaled with a huff. I looked up at the grandfather clock and it read ten past one. I sighed and threw myself back onto the sofa while gently massaging the bottom of my neck. Again, I heard a rapping at the door. There could not possibly be someone coming to bother me at this hour, I thought in annoyance as I glared at it. I listened and waited, but all I could hear was the rain incessantly tapping against the house as it violently fell.

"It must have been a tree knocking against the house," I scoffed.

I closed my eyes again, hoping to fall asleep once more. Again, I heard the rapping at the door.

"Leave me!" I snapped as I scowled at the door.

When I heard no reply, I had assumed that the late-night visitor had not wanted to be a nuisance and had gone away. Then I abruptly stood and faced towards the window when I heard a frightening crack followed closely by the sound of God's booming wrath. I was frozen and wrought with fright. I breathed heavily as I willed my frantic heart to beat at a normal pace. The room then began to drop in temperature. Colder and colder until I could see my frozen breath. I abruptly stopped breathing and froze as I felt a shiver behind my neck. I dryly swallowed the stone that formed in the back of my throat, and I gathered up the courage to look behind me.

I slowly, slowly turned around towards the front of the room. I beheld a female apparition who was standing in front of the door. The woman was petite, and her figure was frail and thin. She wore a dressing-gown of the purest white that clung loosely around her frame. Long locks of chestnut hair delicately framed her face, which was deathly pale and round. Despite that, the beauty of her facial features was likened to Aphrodite herself. Yet there was something familiar about this woman that I could not quite place.

"Um... m-ma-may I ask who you are, ma'am?" I stuttered.

As I tried to say these words, the woman's face fell, and tears started to silently stream down her face. She bowed her head and brokenly replied, "You mean you do not recognize me, Dear? Please, I beg of you! Look at me once more! Please, tell me you recognize me!"

As she pled with me, my heart filled with the most dreadful guilt I had ever felt in my life. I racked my brain as I desperately gazed upon the young woman's face. Who is she? Who could she possibly be? I thought. Then it had hit me, making the guilt even more dreadful.

"V-v...," I lost my words as I guiltily gazed upon her pale face, "Virginia? But h-how? Darling, you look like death has claimed you!"

"That is because he has, Edgar!" she cried angrily, "How? How could you forget that? How could you forget me, Edgar?"

"V-Virginia, Darling! I am sorry! I am truly sorry! I..."

"Edgar, why did you forget me? You Coward!"

It took me a few moments to fully comprehend what she called me.

"Coward?" I yelled in outrage, "Coward? Virginia, you do not have the right to slander me this way! You have no idea what I have gone through these past few years! You have not experienced the pain of watching you wither away! I just wanted to forget the pain! That is why I did not remember you! You foolish woman! What would you have done if I were in your place? Tell me! What would you have done?"

I watched her as she silently studied my face; then her face twisted into defiant determination before saying, "I would have respected your wishes. Just as you should have respected mine."

"What?" I stared at her ghostly figure in unbelief, "What wishes have you bestowed upon me, Virginia?"

"I wished for you to always remember me, Edgar! To remember me and the wonderful times we had together! Those were the reasons why I gave the stained glassed raven to you, remember?"

I tore my eyes from her. I could not bear to look at her. The guilt was too much.

"Of course, you did not remember," Virginia said in resignation, "how could you remember? Like you said, remembering only caused you pain. Well, no matter."

Virginia began to become transparent before her figure morphed into a luminous sphere of white, heavenly mist. The sphere levitated in the spot where Virginia previously stood for a few moments before it shot towards me like a bullet from a gun, aimed towards my heart. The sphere phased through me and caused my blood to feel as if it had frozen into ice. I turned around behind me. My eyes followed the sphere as it made its journey to the windowsill. The misty sphere stopped moving and levitated in place in front of the window. The sphere then morphed back into the beautiful figure of my wife. Virginia sadly gazed up at the image of the raven before turning back towards me.

"If it pains you to remember me," she said vindictively, "Then I will lift you from Muninn's curse!"

Virginia lifted her right arm up and reached for the image of the raven that was etched into the glass of the window. I could only watch in horror as the glass image was transfigured into a living, breathing fowl. The transfigured raven flapped its ebony wigs and perched itself on Virginia's shoulder. Both she and the raven turned their eyes towards me. I felt their eyes bear into my soul in an act of final judgment.

"Nevermore," they said in unison.

I watched in horror as both Virginia and the raven suddenly disappeared, then were replaced with a flock of a dozen ravens flying towards me. I covered my face with my hands, trying to defend myself from the onslaught of sharp black beaks and the frightful fluttering of wings. I took a few desperate steps back, hoping to reach the door of my study. But as I turned to try to escape from the flock, my foot caught on the rug and I fell gracelessly onto the floor.

. . .

I gasped and lurched forward as I was abruptly awakened from my fretful sleep. I placed my elbows on my knees as I wiped the cold sweat from my brow and inhaled a shaking breath.

"'tis a nightmare. 'tis simply a nightmare," I exhaled.

I sat on the sofa and tried to compose myself... one second... two seconds... three seconds... four seconds... Virginia! I shot up from the sofa and sprinted towards the door. I threw open the door and raced down the hall towards Virginia's chambers. I burst into the room and halted to a stop in front of her bed. There she was. Pale, weak, and breathing with difficulty, but alive, nevertheless. She looked at me in concerned curiosity as I massaged my forehead in relief.

"Edgar?" she said breathily, "What is the matter, darling?"

I sighed quietly as I came to her bedside and gently kissed her brow.

"Nothing, dear. Just a nightmare," I whispered.

"Would you like to tell me about it?"

I shook my head. "Maybe in the morning. Get some rest, darling."

Virginia weakly nodded and we both bid each other good night. I quietly left her chambers and returned to my study. I moved across the study in a daze until I had reached the edge of my desk. I picked up the abandoned whisky glass and studied it as I turned it over in my hands. I then tore my eyes away from the glass and fixated them upon the grandfather clock nestled between the bookcases as it chimed... one... two... three... four o'clock in the morning. I gently returned the whisky glass back to its original spot on the desk, then I moved to sit behind it. I sat on the polished wooden chair, then gathered my paper, my quill, and my ink. I closed my eyes and inhaled a deep breath, then exhaled. I opened my eyes, then dipped my quill, and then I began to write...

"Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,

Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore..."

**Author's Note:**

> As I stated in the tags, this was an assignment that I had done for my final for my American Literature I course last Fall. The prompt ( from what I can remember) was to write about one of the poets that we had read through the course of the semester, I had the option of responding to this prompt in a creative way, thus birthing this short story. I hoped you enjoyed it!


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